The Prince and the Blacksmith
by LaneyRockGoddess
Summary: Now, I know the medieval typical princess-peasant hing is kinda overdone, but no one has seen my version yet. What happens when Laney isn't the royalty, and is instead ridiculed and scorned for what she does best? What happens when Corey is a restless prince who wants to make a change? Recipe for disaster, romance, and awkward situations, that's what! Rated T cuz I'm paranoid!
1. Chapter 1

**LRG: SO here it is everyone! Hope you like it! And, also, I'm super sorry that I'm having issues updating my other stories! WIth Uplinked, I am completely out of ideas, so... Please don't hate me! Anyway, here it is! Enjoy! **

* * *

At the rooster's crow, a 15-year-old's eyes cracked open. This girl was known as Lanette Penn, or to everyone who wants to keep their face in tact, Laney. She looked around the dark room and raised her head, her eyes wanting to close again. So, naturally, being sleepy, she fell asleep for a small while. But at the moment when sunlight started to peek through the small window, she knew better than to continue sleeping.

She let out a scratchy yawn and sat up, looking over at her side. The bed was empty, showing that her mother was already up, fetching the water. Or she was already opening up shop, probably. She shook her head and slipped her legs out of bed. She shakily stood up and trudged over to the wooden chest shoved up against one wall. One of their great possessions. She grabbed her work outfit - which consisted of a long, scratchy black skirt, old, worn boots, and a grey fake substitute cotton long-sleeve shirt - and slipped the garments on. She walked out of the room, tying her short, weirdly bright red hair back with an old strip of cloth.

She slipped into the kitchen, which was basically a moderate-sized room with a wooden table, two scraggly chairs, and a small fireplace, along with a cupboard or two where they kept kettles, pans, grain, dried foods, and other things of that nature. The two big pots by the door told Laney that her mother HAD already gotten the water. She let out a curse and dashed out the door, it swinging shut with a thump behind her. She went right and quickly went out back behind her house, where there was a small stable with two horses. One was reserved mainly for pulling heavy loads of equipment to sell forged items in the castle courtyard when they allowed it, and that one was a light chestnut brown. And the other was just a generous gift from the farmer that lived to the right of them, and this one was dark brown with a white star on its forehead.

The horse was born with a "defunct" hoof, which meant that it was a somewhat lighter color than the rest of them, deeming it as . She smiled at the darker one, rubbing its nose as it whinnied. "Hey Icarus," she said with a smile, flinging open the stall door and pushing in a clump of hay. "Hi Val." She turned to Val - short for valiant -and did the same thing before turning back to Icarus. He nuzzled her hair before leaning down to munch the food up. She grinned and latched the doors shut before running to town.

As she dashed down the road towards the marketplace, hair and skirt flying, some of the boys - some apprentices some not - laughed at her. "Ah there she is boys!" one shouted, smirking. "That miserable excuse for a blacksmith's child." Another one let out a hearty laugh. "The weak-muscled maggot lover." One grinned proudly as he held aloft a scythe and straw hat - the symbol of a farmer's apprentice. "Go back to the stuff you know best, woman!" he jeered. "Cooking and cleaning, eh?" They all laughed loudly as she jogged past.

_The fat lot of them,_ she thought to herself angrily. _Those weak-minded boys can't help that a girl can weld and smith better than any a' them_. Yes, Laney was the only female apprentice, but she did not lack in self-confidence. She hung a right, dodging people lugging carts and wagons, those on horseback and accompanied by goats or an oxen or two. She just smiled and squeezed through, ignoring the strange looks the men gave her at her typical blacksmith clothing. And, if you haven't figured out yet, our heroine resided in quite the male-dominated environment.

She was deep in her thoughts as she walked down the road and into an open-air building supported by thick wooden beams, with wooden supports criss-crossing the ceiling and covered by a stretched layer of hide that blocked out the rain, light dusting's of occasional snow, and most sunlight. The sides were taken up by sturdy brick and mud walls covering the back and right wall of the shop. The shop on the left, a bakery, which also had a wall on the back and right, blocked off the left wall too so only the front was technically open.

She walked in and went right to the top-right corner of the fairly large shop, where someone stood, hunched over, in front of a furnace with a pipe above it, allowing the smoke to escape, and large anvil. "Hey mum," she called, walking over to the wall and grabbing her wraparound apron. The woman turned, revealing a tall, lean woman darker red hair than Laney.s and deep brown eyes. She let a smile grace her lips as she set down the horseshoe she had been cooling on the anvil. "Hello dear," Margaret Penn greeted, peeling off her gloves and pushing her almost auburn hair out of her eyes. Her forehead was drenched with sweat, and her face already had a fine layer of black soot coating her cheeks. Her leather gloves were worn and had various yet small holes in them, and her apron had an array of smithing tools in the pockets.

Laney flashed an apologetic face at her mom as she slipped on her gloves. "Sorry I overslept," she said in a guilty tone, putting a large hammer in one hand and tongs in her apron pocket. "I was just so tired..." She trailed off, looking down as she formed a crease in between her eyebrows. Her mother smiled and leaned up against the wall. "It's fine, really sweetie," she said nonchalantly. "Just help me get to work. We have three sets of horseshoes to get done for Jeremiah by tonight and I've only got two shoes done." Laney let out a groan.

"Seriously?" she asked incredulously. "That old coot needs new horseshoes every week!" Margaret shook her head. "Yeah yeah, now get to work!" she said with a laugh as she slipped on her gloves again. Laney smiled and chuckled as she went over to their metal supply.

* * *

Now, in the opposite side of the city, in the castle towering over the city, there was a 16-year-old boy that was tiredly eating breakfast. He looked up from his thick porridge seasoned with cinnamon and cast a wary glance at the food-laden table. It was covered with smoked meats, porridge, spices, the rare delicacy of fresh fruit and vegetables, and an array of bread. He shook his head at their gluttony, as their people sat in their homes, starving.

He glanced down at his clothing; dark grey pants, black shin-high boots, a soft white cotton shirt, and a light grey vest over top. _Here I am with shoes one of our citizens couldn't even hope to save up for..._ he thought bitterly. He shook his head and shot a wary look at his father, who was seated across the table. His father, also the king of the country of Pacem, which was ironic, as the past king had been all about war.

His father was a tall, muscular man with almost black hair and dark blue eyes. He just looked like a natural leader; calm, collected, and just. Anyway, as I was saying, the king was in deep conversation with his advisor, a stocky man with mousy brown hair and dead brown shark eyes that was sitting next to him. The prince didn't trust the man, but his father sure seemed to. They used hand motions as they spoke and cast angered glares at one another. The so called "queen" was sitting next to King William, picking at her fluffy white bread with long, elegant nails.

She had light blonde hair that looked almost white, with dark, forest green eyes. She got booted out of her own country because she was such a bad ruler. She literally made it a rule that anyone found eating more than she did in one day was executed. And she never ate! Her people starved! This was the widowed queen they'd dumped on King William after his wife had died giving birth to their son. Corey grumbled something unintelligible as he grabbed his cup of water and choked a sip down.

She looked eternally bored, as though nothing pleased her. It annoyed Corey to no end. He was brought out of his thoughts by a loud shout of "We shall not discuss this any more!" He looked up, slightly shocked, at his father, who was staring angrily at his advisor. The fat man himself had quite a scared look washing over his features. The queen was looking up with a little smirk on her face, as if she was delighted that there was finally some conflict going on. King William rubbed his temples with two fingers. "I must apologize..." he groaned, shooting a glare at his advisor, who whistled and looked away. "I-I just need to go to my chambers..." He stood up, his spine erect. He clasped his hands behind his back and shot a nod at the servants lining the room before turning to his son.

"Okay Cornelius," he sighed, using his full name. "Go attend to your studies. After that, you can go out into town if you wish." Corey nodded respectfully. "Of course. Thank you father," he said, forcing himself to say the overly-cheesy line. The king shot him a wry smile and turned to his "wife", who cocked an eyebrow as she bit down on her bread. He sighed deeply and nodded at her before turning and walking out of the room. "Her Highness" groaned dramatically and stood up, her crown tilting at an angle on her head. "I'm going to the market," she said in a bored fashion, standing and trudging out of the room. Corey nodded with a sigh and swallowed one more sip of water. He glanced up at the door and saw one of his teachers, an older man with thinning grey hair and deep brown eyes.

He was tall and slightly frightening as he shot Corey a glare. "Prince Riffin," he chided in his thick eastern accent. "You are ten minutes late for your history lesson." Corey grimaced as he got dragged out of the room by his wrist.

* * *

As Laney hammered away at the slightly thick piece of metal in front of her on the anvil, she was biting down on her lip. Her mom was at the front of the shop, dealing with a customer; an agitated knight who was arguing with her about his damaged armor. "I heard you were one of tha' best smiths in the region!" the burly man grumbled, his sunken eyes peering at Margaret. "Is this true or not?" Her mother nodded eagerly. "Yes, it is quite true," she said uneasily. "But when do you need this armor done by?"

The knight huffed. "On the morrow," he muttered. "Fix it and I'll pay you very handsomely." Margaret gave an uncomfortable nod and took the breastplate, helmet, and sword from the knight's arms before giving a terse how and quickly walking back to the furnace. Laney slipped off one glove and wiped her damp forehead, smearing the ash around. "What was that about?" she asked her mother as she set down the expensive equipment. Her mom pulled a face and looked down at the somewhat mangled armor. "Ah Sir Butthead over there had wanted us to stay and fix his armor overnight." she grumbled.

Laney groaned."Do we really have to?" Margaret nodded and looked away guiltily. "Uh...you have to," she squeaked. At this sentence Laney froze and shot a glare at her. "What?!" Her mom gulped. "Well, sweetie, I have to take that trip north to try and get that position working in the king's palace," she explained. "And that is a four day trip... And I have to leave tonight..." Laney let out a groan. "Mum! I can't handle all these orders by myself for four days!" she groaned as her mother shrugged apologetically and slid on her gloves. "I thought you could handle it," she admitted as she turned to work on another horseshoe. "You've been working with me since you were around 7. It's been 8 years and I thought you would know what to do by now."

Being told she couldn't do something or couldn't handle it set her over the edge. Laney fumed. "Fine! I'll handle it!" Margaret smiled victoriously. "Good. I knew you could," she grinned, patting her daughter's cheek. "Now, let's get started on the rest of those horseshoes so Jeremiah doesn't throw a fit." Laney cracked a smile at the thought of the old man screaming at them and stomping his feet on the ground like a young child.

She could never stay mad at her mom. After all, it was just them after her father died in a war and her brother got shipped off to an apprenticeship for a blacksmith on the other side of the village, with supposedly the best smith in the country. Laney nodded with a smile and got back to hammering the shoe in her hand, when she heard yells coming from in front of the shop. She turned around and saw a tall, muscular, overly-hairy boy being a jerk to a smaller, skinnier, wimpy-looking boy. She frowned and growled so deep that she felt steam shooting out her ears. She ripped off her gloves and stormed over before her mother could stop her.

She broke through the group and pushed the boy behind her, even though he was only an inch or two shorter than herself. "Leave the kid alone!" she yelled at the bully, muscles tense. He looked at her for a second before bursting out in loud guffaws of laughter. The circle of boys all around them all started laughing too. "Oh yeah? Whatcha gonna do 'bout it, girl?" the muscular boy sneered, staring at her. He had scruffy dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. He was so close she could see his minuscule mustache hairs. She grimaced at his horrible breath that smelled along the lines of rotten onions and death. She was only three or so inches shorter than him, and a lot lighter and quicker, too. She could probably beat him. Probably.

"You gon' take me down Princess?" he laughed, getting in her face. The boys watching them all smiled and laughed, jabbing each other playfully with their elbows. Laney tensed up again with her arms stuck out at her sides, growling. "Say somethin' like that again," she hissed at the larger boy. "Go ahead. I dare ya'." He grinned so she could see his yellowed, uneven teeth.

"Come on girly. Bring it."

She let out a roar as she tackled him to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**LRG: Hey dudes and dudettes! Didn't really know how you guys felt about this one, but the reviews kinda seemed okay-ish, so... here the second chapter is? Uhm... Just remember to take a couple seconds to review. Give me some ideas for future chapters cuz I need a little bit of inspiration. But please, just review or PM me and I may use your ideas! I Kinda have to apologize too, as I was not alive during the medieval ages and don't know how they addressed people or talked or how things looked. This was just my opinion on the subject. Now, without further ado..**

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"Prince Corey?" his teacher asked uncertainly as he plucked away at the lyre in his hands. "Uh...that's a C..." He shot her a look that screamed 'Okay, tell me how this will help me rule a kingdom when I'm older. I dare you.' So she just brushed it off and adjusted his hands.

He glanced up and out the window, his heart soaring when he spotted the sun's position in the sky. "Yeah!" he cheered, throwing the instrument aside and dashing through the door. His teacher reached out a hand with a "Wait!" before she smiled and shook her head. He let out a whoop of joy as he sprinted through the castle halls, bounding with each step. He passed servants and maids and guards, who all suppressed grins or looks of annoyance at the overjoyed prince. He ran through the winding hallways and corridors until he reached the kitchen, where he found a burlap sack waiting for him by the door, along with his blue cloak.

And, scrawled on a piece of paper, was a note laying on the bag. "_Dear Prince, We've gotten together some things for you for your "visit" to town today! With love, Maurine."_ He grinned and shook his head as he pictured the short, kind maid that was his favorite of all of the castle staff. She was the one who helped him help everyone else. Once he was king, he'd give her a position of great honor, considering that she still worked in the court when he was king.

He grabbed the sack and his navy blue cloak that was slung over a chair beside it, and pulled it on as he bolted from the room. He dashed to the royal stables and found "his" horse - a dark black stallion with a white star on his forehead. He leapt up on the already-saddled animal, who whinnied and bucked slightly. He raced the animal out of the barn, dodging the horses' caretakers as he raced off towards town.

Once he hit the rural, yet somewhat highly busy marketplace, he had to go slower so he wouldn't trample anyone. He went around women with their children, men with their tools, and apprentices darting everywhere. He emptied his bag, giving the food to those begging and who looked hungry, and went around helping people with some problems they had. Broken wagon wheels, stones caught in horseshoes, and ripped clothing. Everyone left him with smiles and hugs, or the typical "God bless you Prince Corey." He smiled and rode his horse through the town, looking around at the different trade spots.

That's when he spotted a huge crowd around one of the shops.

It seemed to be a group of boys; apprentices maybe. They were all shouting and cheering and screaming at something going on inside the crowd. He frowned and hopped off his horse, walking over to the crowd. As he walked up and squeezed through the group, the shocked boys parted for him. They led a path to the center of the group, where two people were fist-fighting.

One was a tall, muscular boy with dark hair, who was obviously the favored competitor in the brawl. The other was a lean, strong girl, with bright red hair tied back, who obviously had the upper hand in this fight even though she was weaker. She was quicker and more agile, able to recover easily while the boy was thrown off by each missed punch. "Stop this!" Corey said in an annoyed tone. They kept brawling, the girl getting a solid punch to the boy's nose. "Stop!" he yelled, finally getting in between them just as the boy caught her on the mouth. "What is going on here?" he screamed at them, shooting them stern glares.

The apprentices all gasped as they realized who he was. Even the fighters paled. The girl shot him a look, and he had to take a double-take wen he saw her face.

She had delicate features that still looked somehow strong, with big, sea green eyes. She had high, arching cheekbones and thin eyebrows. Her face was covered in a thin layer of coal dust, as if the prince cared. The way the loose strands of red hair framed her face was incredible, along with the way she held herself high, even with a bloody lip. Her lips were moving but Corey hadn't heard a thing. She was pretty - not beautiful, mind you - for a peasant. In his heart, as pretty as he thought she looked, it would never work out.

Well maybe it could... he thought to himself. He shook his head out if the thoughts and hardened his gaze. "Come again?" he asked in an authoritative tone. "I was just working," she grumbled, motioning her thumb back at the shop behind the crowd. "When I heard this maggot-eater harassing a kid." The other boy lunged at her, screaming "I was NOT harassing him! We were just foolin' around!" His buddies held him back, hissing "No you imbecile, it's not worth it!"

Corey shot him a glare that screamed 'You lay a finger on her, and I will kick your ass into the next age.' Laney smirked smugly. "Yeah so I jumped in and told him to stop buggin' him, and he started harassing me. So, I took a swing at him." she admitted with a shrug. Corey frowned at her before turning to the boy. "Is this true?" he growled. Now, you have to realize that Corey was normally a calm, easygoing, laid-back guy, but when he got angry, he got angry. The guy blushed. "Uh...y-yes, something along those lines, but she completely started it!" Corey frowned deeply at him.

"Sir I deeply regret to inform you that her defending those who could not do so themselves was not "starting" a fight, but instead a courageous and bold move. And you should not have mocked her for doing so." Laney grinned and laughed mockingly. Corey turned to her disapprovingly. "And young lady, that gave you no reason to attack him." The boy did the same laughter back at her. "Now, both of you, stop acting like children and shake hands." The two looked at each other disgustedly before reaching over and takes the other's hand in a loose grip and shaking twice, never releasing their scowls. The prince nodded in approval and shot them and the kids around them a look.

"Now get back to your work!" he said loudly. The boys all grumbled and gave a terse bow before walking off. The dark-haired boy who was fighting mumbled "Yes sir," and bowed before he walked off. Laney shot him a look. This was when she first got a good look at him.

He had a strong jawline and smoldering light blue eyes. He had blue hair that was nether bright nor dark, and he was tall. Maybe five inches taller or so than Laney. He was strong and fit, but not like the watermelon-stuffed-under-skin muscular. Laney caught her breath and instantly became self-conscious about her grimy appearance. "Uh...thank you your highness..." she said awkwardly as she blushed. She had seen him around town on his visits, but never actually been near him. He nodded with a scowl that he had to force on.

To be a king, you have to be firm. He could never be a king if he showed such lenience at a fight. "Yes, well I believe it's my duty to protect my people," he said with a frown before he really caught notice of how heavily her lip was bleeding. He frowned deeper and let his eyebrows scrunch together. "Your lip m'lady, 'tis bleeding." Laney cocked an eyebrow and raised a hand up to dab at her face. "Oh. I guess it is." she said as she brought her now-bloody fingers down from her lip.

"'Tis fine your highness." He frowned even more and got closer, fumbling for the spare piece of cloth he always kept in his pocket. It was in his nature to help people, after all. He took it and gently dabbed at her lip, apologizing all the way. "I am quite sorry if this hurts you," he said while he but his lip. "I am certainly not trying to..." Laney smiled sheepishly as he attempted to clean up her bloody lip. "I am fine, sir," she confirmed with a smile. "Really, my shop is just behind me and we have items to fix this."

He stopped and peered at her. "_Your_ shop?" he asked suspiciously. Laney nodded and bit her lip. "I am quite sorry your highness," she apologized even though she had no reason to. "My mother and I run a blacksmith's shop that used to belong to my father." He frowned, a crease forming in between his eyebrows. "Okay," he murmured, staring at her lip again.

Corey finally looked up and retracted his hand into his pocket, straightening up. "And you are sure that you are okay?" he asked uncertainly. She nodded with a smile. "Yes your highness. Thank you for breaking up the brawl and I am sorry for starting it," she said as she bowed. He nodded with a slight smile at her humble apology and bowed back. "I hope to see you again...I never did receive your name?" She gave a smile and a disbelieving shake of her head.

"Lanette."

He smiled softly and bowed again. "Well I hope to see you again, Lanette. Have a nice day." He nodded at her and flipped his hood up again, walking away. She stood there for a minute, watching as he mounted his horse and rode away, not even looking back. 

* * *

The next couple days went by without anything interesting going on. Laney's mom left early the morning after the fight. The next two days were filled with work and more taunting about being a female blacksmith. Just the usual boring routine, y'know? She was able to meet up with her brother (at her home,) who had gotten transferred to work at the war front a couple days before.

Their conversation of the day before still burned in her ears and haunted her dreams. 

* * *

_As he reached her, he gathered her in his arms and hugged her. She smiled and pressed her face into his gray cotton shirt. The last time the two siblings had seen each other was over half a year ago. "Hi Laney...how has the shop been?" he asked, smiling. She shrugged._

_"Still gettin' teased for being a girl. Angry arseheads being imbeciles. Gettin' into fights with the boys. Same-old-same-old." she said nonchalantly. He forced a smile and let her go, taking her hands in his. "When I was at the front, they were talking about how the king himself - of all people - has declared war on the province of Mali." Laney's eyes widened at this._

_Their king was normally a level-headed man who wouldn't act so rash and stupid. Our country was normally peaceful, at least with King William it was. "It will be official by __tomorrow__, and we shall be in a war by high __noon__." Laney's eyebrows scrunched together. "And, there has been talk among the apprentices that the king has begun to send out summons for soldiers." her brother said energetically, a gleam in his eyes. Laney frowned and firmly squeezed his hands._

_"Lenny, I forbid you from going off to war, you hear me?" He glowered at her. "Well, mother," he groaned sarcastically. "You don't own me. I can choose to do what I want to do." She frowned, a saddened expression covering her features. "Lenny," she whispered as she placed a hand on his cheek. "I just don't want you getting hurt..." He saw the pain in her sea green eyes and he melted. His defenses crumbled and he placed a brotherly kiss on her forehead. He broke out into a miniature smile and took her hand again._

_"And you have my promise that I won't get hurt."_

* * *

She shook her head and continued pounding away at the sword she was fixing up. The smoked burned her lungs and made her eyes sting. The ash and dust on her face felt like a second skin, as she was so used to it. The hammer was like an extension of her arm, and she did everything on instinct without having to think about it. So she let her mind wander, thinking about Prince Corey. _The look he gave me..._ she thought to herself. I_t looked like a look of... Love, perhaps?_ She broke into a lovestruck grin, turning the sword before going back to hammering it.

_No...it couldn't have been,_ she thought dejectedly. _He's a prince. I'm a peasant. It would never have worked._ She shook her head and continued her work. Well, that goal certainly stopped when Laney heard loud yells coming from the village center, only a couple yards away. She cautiously set the sword blade down and stripped off her gloves, tossing them after she walked out. She weaved through the sea of maidens and men to find three men in shiny gold and silver armor atop regal-looking horses in the square.

She cocked an eyebrow and began to listen as the man in front - a tall and fit-looking older gentleman on a white and grey horse - began to read off of a lengthy scroll. "On the order of King William Riffin the third, we must start recruiting men for battle against the province of Mali. We require at least 150 men from this section of the village."

Laney's eyebrows scrunched together. "If you would like to apply, head to the castle. You would, of course, pay these standard price for soldiers. They'll take it from there." The men cast all of them disgusted looks as they rode away. Everyone went back to their jobs, grumbling under their breath. Laney just stood, breaking out into a smile. _If I joined the army,_ she thought to herself giddily.

_I would be able to make easy money without working too hard... They'll end this battle within a week at most! We'll win and we'll continue living happily ever after!_

* * *

But, somewhere far away, the king of Mali (King Gregor) sat atop his coal black throne in a darkened throne room, stroking his beard like one of those cheesy cartoon villains with the fat white cats and the horrible plans that would never work. Except, there was no cat or bad plan. King Gregor was a tall, skinny man with surprisingly big muscles for his stature. He had short, greasy black hair and dark eyes that looked almost black.

Most of his own kingdom called him a 'demon' or a 'sorcerer' because of his dark complexion. He didn't care, of course. He turned this fear into power for himself. This made him a horrible, dangerous man who no kingdom could trust. He murdered for no other reason than to kill. He fought with other kings just so he could kill entire armies. It was no wonder that King William of Pacem started a war with him. "Hmm," he murmured thoughtfully, looking down at his messenger, who had recited the same message. "The little army thinks they can beat us, huh?"

His messenger trembled and nodded, shying away from him. "Yes sire," he whimpered. King Gregor leapt up from his throne, muscles rippling as he drew his sword. He landed in front of the thoroughly terrified messenger, the marble cracking underneath his feet. He gently ran the black blade under the man's throat, holding it in place. He leant in close, smiling deviously. "Now, sir, is that going to happen?" he asked softly, digging the blade deeper.

He panicked and frantically shook his head, forgetting about the blade nearly lodged in his throat. The king sighed as he removed the sword, wiping the deep red blood on his robes. "Oh Harold you're such a suck-up," he groaned, sticking the blade back in its scabbard.

"Guards, remove the body," he ordered, casually waving his hand as he trudged back to his throne. The guards hardly flinched as they dragged the body out. He turned to the other guard on his right.

"Now, go tell the blacksmith to start polishing my armor. We've got a kingdom to obliterate."


	3. Chapter 3

**LRG: Hey guys... Man it's been a while, hasn't it? I've missed hearing from you dudes! Sorry about the long wait, I've been having some idea issues. I need to give a huge thanks to ****GrojGirl10****, ****Hunter's Anarchy****, and ****Raven Wolf **** for the help on the information I needed! Thanks to all you dudes! YOU ROCK! And a special thanks to ****Hunter's Anarchy **** for just bein' awesome! So, I have the new chapter, and I feel like some of you dudes are getting kinda anxious... I don't wanna keep you, but I feel the need to get to know my readers a little bit more. So, In your reviews (I expect you to review) I want you to ask me one random and non-perverted question and tell me two random facts about yourself! THANKS FOR READING DUDES AND DUDETTES! I do NOT own Grojband or any of the characters used! ANd I'm sorry for the short chapter, guys... I haven't had too much time to write... Now, without further ado, I present the new chapter of****_ The Prince and the Blacksmith_****!**

* * *

"How could you start a war?" Corey screamed at his dad, who was looking angrily at his feet as he sat on his throne. "Do you even know what happened to the last kingdom who went to war with King Gregor? Do you?" He paced, throwing his hands up in the air.

Respect was the last thing on his mind, and he didn't honestly care if he made his father angry. What was the worst he could do? Ground him? Hit him? Send him to bed without dinner? Corey was just so full of rage and disbelief that he didn't care what the consequences of his actions were.

"Well let us just say that the king never went to another banquet or said another word or even inhaled another breath! Same as the rest of his kingdom, father!" Corey yelled, his hands grasping his unnatural and shaggy blue hair. "Why on this Earth would you anger a man who is believed to be a demon?"

King William stood up and glared at his son. "Boy, if I were you I'd best watch my tongue!" he growled, storming down the steps. The young prince set his jaw and looked at his father. Corey was tall, so he was almost level with his height. The king was only taller by two inches or so. "I can deport you faster than you can intake two breaths, you ungrateful brat!" he hissed. "You need to learn to mind, young prince!"

Corey smirked. "Ah, but at least I don't make radical and idiotic decisions that a peasant could do better than," Corey said boldly. "At 15, I could've negotiated through this catastrophe better than you ever could have."

That was the final straw. The older man snapped as he narrowed his eyes. King William set his jaw, eyes blazing with fury, as he retracted a hand and brought it down on Corey's cheek. The prince fought down a yelp as his head snapped to the side. He ground his teeth together, squinting his eyes, as he turned his head slowly back. The welt forming on his cheek burned and throbbed, but Corey acted like it was nothing.

William flared his nostrils and roared in his son's face, "That did it, boy! I am enlisting you in the army! You're going to work and fight for our kingdom, and if you die in the process, you shall learn what it takes to be a king!" Corey's jaw dropped and his pupils dilated as his father pushed him aside and strode down the massive hallway. At the door, he barked some orders to one of his guards.

Corey was sure that it involved him, armor, a sword, and leaving later that day for the warfront. He walked past the guard with a simple nod and through the wooden double doors.

_That wasn't supposed to happen..._ Corey thought to himself. _He was jut supposed to yell..._

The dumbstruck prince stood there, face paled, for the longest time before he sat down on the steps in front of the throne and threw his head into his hands. "What have I done?" he whispered.

The only thing he knew was that he wasn't going to come out of this war alive.

* * *

Laney angrily pounded at yet another horseshoe, grimacing at the reverberating pound her hammer made each time it clashed with the metal. People came, people went, and the teenagers couldn't help but wish that she was somewhere else, doing something else.

Each time the apprentices passed the shop, they would jeer and come in and wouldn't leave until their masters yelled at them. Laney shook her head and grumbled under her breath as people passed her shop, shooting them each a specified death glare. And, as for our heroine's idea to sign up for the army, well, it failed.

She realized that her mum needed her to stay and help out with the overbearing customers and such, and she didn't want to leave her mother all alone... So, yeah... That's her reasoning. She was lost in her thoughts as she pounded upon the metal. Suddenly, metalworking seemed boring and dull. She wanted to go live, but she was stuck here. She knew that these thoughts seemed sort of random and out of place, and she didn't know where it came from, but she felt like she had had them forever.

She was soon brought out of her daze when she flattened the horseshoe to the point where it looked like a sheet of round paper. She cussed loudly with an agitated groan as she chucked the metal aside, falling down so she was leaning against the wall, her face buried in her palms. She sat there, trying to regain her sanity, when she heard a loud pounding on the wooden posts in the front of the shop.

Her head snapped up and she shot a somewhat desperate look at the door. She was a tad unnerved when she saw a single figure clad in a dark blue cloak with a golden clasp. She cocked an eyebrow but reluctantly pushed herself up and walked over. "Welcome," she said somewhat coldly. "What can I do for ye'?"

The stranger had his head tilted down so his hood covered and shadowed his face. He had a strong, muscular physique and was about 5 or so inches taller than Laney. The stranger let out an amused chuckle and tilted his head up so Laney could only see his eyes. She gasped when she saw that they were a stunning light blue. "Well you are certainly a face I thought that I would never see again," he said in a deep voice. "Your lip seems to be doing better. How have you been, Lanette?" She grimaced and cocked her head to the side.

"Err...do I know you?" she asked uncertainly. The corners of the man's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Ah, have you forgotten me already?" he asked, reaching up to flip back his hood. "Hopefully you haven't." Laney smiled softly at his abnormal blue hair and wide grin.

"Prince Corey," she said, doing a little curtsy. "I am well. And you?" He smiled and shrugged. "I could be better, Lanette," he said. Laney nodded, quirking an eyebrow. "What is wrong?" she asked curiously, taking off her gloves and placing them on the counter. He grimaced and ran a hand through his shaggy blue hair. "Uh...you could possibly say that I may or may not have made my father a bit angry?" he said uncertainly, shooting the teenage girl a look.

Laney rolled her eyes. "What did you do?" she asked him as she placed a hand on her hip. He smiled sheepishly. "I told him that he was more idiotic than a peasant," he said with a shrug. Laney's eyes widened. "Are you insane?" she asked in a hushed voice. He cracked a wide grin. "Sometimes, Lanette. Sometimes," he said with a light chuckle. "So, as I was saying, he sent me to go fight in the war." Laney nodded thoughtfully, a crease forming in between her eyebrows.

"Luckily they're giving me a captain's rank and control over a brigade," he continued. The redhead shot him a look. "Uh," she asked uncertainly. "And what does this matter have to do with me?" He grinned and grabbed her hands, gazing into her sea green eyes. "I want you to be in my army," he said with a soft smile.

Her eyes widened and she couldn't keep the starstruck smile off her face. Once she saw the excited glimmer in his eyes, like he got her, she forced a scowl onto her lips. "What's in it fer' me?" she asked as she pulled away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. Corey sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I didn't get you too easily, did I?" he asked with a tired smile. She shook her head with a smirk. He rolled his eyes.

"Okay, if you join, after the war, I shall make you the official blacksmith of the kingdom," he offered. "Good?" Her eyes sparkled in happiness. "Yeah," she said with a grin. "I'll do it. When do we leave for the front?" Corey winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "At sunset..." Laney's jaw dropped, and she shot the prince a glare.

"Are you kidding me?" she hissed at him, squinting menacingly. "We are leaving in about two hours?" He shrugged. "I wish I was joking," he admitted. Laney sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay, fine," she relented. "But all I want to know is how the others are going to react at a girl in an army." Corey knit his eyebrows together. He hadn't thought of this. He shrugged. "I'm honestly not too sure Lanette," he admitted. "But when you kick their arses in training, I'd expect that they'd respect you."

Laney nodded with a chuckle. "Okay, and just in case you want to keep your limbs in tact Your Highness," she said playfully. "Call me Laney."


End file.
